


Bland Gibson

by TrashStash



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 21:40:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11022141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashStash/pseuds/TrashStash
Summary: His eyes are closed before he knows it, and he's not fighting it. He just enjoys the comfort of resting, despite the filth that he feels from not showering, or that he still has all of his clothes on (which include the socks, which is the most disturbing), and yeah, he knows he'll fall asleep-Spoiler alert, he does





	Bland Gibson

**Author's Note:**

> You like that pun? Huh?  
> I gotta admit that this so random and boring. It's short (obviously).This is just. Nothing. I literally wrote what came to mind on some current events in my life and we got. This.  
> Also this is an amazing way to break my hiatus lmao. 
> 
> ~~Fucking end me~~

He feels...gross.

Extremely gross. Peeling off his shirt he breathes deeply, trying to pull _some sort_ of coolness out of the air in this stuffy room. His skin feels like it has a film on it, and yes, just thinking of that makes him sigh, and cringe, and flop down onto his bed.

There, the cool sheets make him take a deep breath. He ravishes in it, rolling around and scrunching the sheets against his skin. He smothers his face into his pillows, and the smell of the laundry soap is just- 

He stops. Out of breath he can tell that this is the end all of being in bed at-he checks the clock- 4:50 PM. He feels _good_ in his bed, _so fucking good_ , he already knows the songs he's going to want to listen too. 

He knows that he should go out today. He has too. He should be joining that barbecue his friends invited him to go to. 

His eyes are closed before he knows it, and he's not fighting it. He just enjoys the comfort of _resting_ , despite the filth that he feels from not showering, or that he still has all of his clothes on (which include the socks, which is the _most_ disturbing), and yeah, he knows he'll fall asleep-

-waking up for a second with a faint regester of a notification-

-and when he actually wakes up, with the panic of 'Fuck how long did I sleep' while pushing up onto his forearm and checking the clock, he swears loudly as he drops back down and (lowkey) wants to cry.

6:33 PM.

He remembers the notification he heard, and quickly searching for his phone that's somewhere on the bed, he turns it on and sees 4 new messages from Barbara. He knew what they said already and sighed.

The barbecue started at 5:30. If he got up and left  to go it wouldn't be _that bad_. It was now more of the question ' _Do I want to go?_ ' There was no time for a shower, which as he shuffled around in bed seemed like something he should _really_ do.

He still got up and began to head out, not even changing because _fuck it_. He knew he was on the podcast this Monday, and he would be pinned in a corner if he didn't go without saying so. 

**Hey**

**Sorry. Be there in a bit**

**Fell asleep**

Sent by Blaine Gibson

**Author's Note:**

> ~~Seriously end me~~


End file.
